


Cocoon

by tako_yaki



Series: Metamorphosis [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Leon S. Kennedy, Imagination, M/M, Masturbation, Not Beta Read, Other, PWP, Scent Kink, abo undertones (not really lol), my first fic woo woo, pls go easy on me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22554466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tako_yaki/pseuds/tako_yaki
Summary: He had expected this to be a simple in-and-out mission—to save his best friend’s day like he had numerous times before.He never would’ve expected almost being brought to his knees by his senses betraying him.(wherein Chris smells really good and Leon gets really sidetracked)
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield, Leon S. Kennedy/His Hand
Series: Metamorphosis [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685146
Comments: 17
Kudos: 106





	Cocoon

**Author's Note:**

> Wooo chile this is my first ever fic in a whiiile and honestly its really rewarding to have just been able to write sum porn n post it on this sinful site. This was supposed to be a multi-chapter smut fic with Chris' POV as well (hence some strange writing gaps here n there) but I got buttfucked by schoolwork but still let's see how this goes.

The very moment he stepped into the suite, Leon realized that something was off.

At the time, it seemed like a harmless request—to retrieve a dress Claire had prepared for tonight’s annual BSAA gala, but had forgotten in her haste to get to work.  
She was on a tight schedule and had numerous meetings to attend. Leon (being her best friend and weak to the Redfield charm) agreed to pick it up for her—he had the day off and was in the area anyways. 

He couldn’t blame her. He knew she’d been working herself too hard these days; it was obvious in the gray depths under her eyes and the way she’d zone out in conversations—and it wouldn’t be the first time she’d asked him to pick something up for her, hence why Leon has a spare key in the first place. 

Needless to say, he had been in her apartment many times before. He knew the space like it was the back of his hand. Being a government agent and all, he had to be a little observant. He’d stepped into the same suite for years and it has never affected him.

Not like the way it does right now. 

It’s almost like there’s a shift in equilibrium. It feels warmer.

He had expected this to be a simple in-and-out mission—to save his best friend’s day like he had numerous times before.

He never would’ve expected almost being brought to his knees by his senses betraying him. 

What was that scent? It hit him with a force strong enough to release a groan he didn’t even know he was suppressing. It was familiar, almost. Reminding Leon of Claire’s familiar fragrance of pine and sage, but stronger. 

Warmer. More overwhelming. 

It smelled of the forest and musk and something Leon could only describe as primal.  
Purely animalistic. 

And Leon was being devoured by it all. It was all too much.  
He knew that couldn’t stay here long, for fear of completely losing his sanity. Regaining his senses (or rather, what’s left of them), he tried his best to pick up his feet and ignore the flush of heat spreading throughout his body. 

He was so close to master bedroom, where he knew her dress would be. He felt like a runner at the end of a marathon, so close to the finish line. That was until—

The door to his right. The guest bedroom. He could sense it, it was the source. 

Leon felt possessed, it was like his feet were moving on their own. With every inch closer to the door, the scent became more and more overwhelming.  
And the moment he opened that door was both his ascension and downfall. 

-

By the looks of the usually empty room, it looked like Claire had a guest. The guest room (which Leon had secretly claimed as his own) wasn’t exactly a mess, but there were signs that someone had recently occupied the space. 

The bed was hastily made, a phone charger was plugged into the wall, and a suitcase lay on the foot of the bed. 

There was a breathtakingly elegant green three-piece hanging on the closet door, as well as a few articles of clothing strewn about the desk and the sofa chair—most notably an army green tactical tee shirt an all too familiar patch on the right arm. BSAA.

Shit. 

He’s in Chris’ room.  
Or rather, where Chris is staying.

That meant that the aforementioned guest and owner of the fragrance that was driving Leon to the brink of his sanity is none other than his best friend’s smoking hot older brother (and protagonist of many of Leon’s dirty dreams), Christopher mother-fucking Redfield.

Leon was Salazar levels of royally fucked.

-

Leon knew he shouldn’t be doing this. 

Shame filled his body, but not as much as Chris’ scent filled his every being—electrified every nerve in his body, enveloped his already overheating skin. 

He knew he shouldn’t be strewn on top of Chris’ bed, with one hand smothering his face with the older man’s shirt and the other stroking his painfully hard cock.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but his senses cared little for reason. 

His own ragged and sharp intakes of air felt like a piston on Leon’s olfactory sensors, as he took in as much as he possibly could of the lingering fragrance on Chris’ shirt.

To Leon, every seam was dripping sex and the salty smell of sweat felt like some sort of aphrodisiac. It was sickeningly perfect.

His eyes rolled back as he went in for another deep inhale, he bucked up into his fist, filthy moans barely muffled by the thin sheet of fabric. His pre-come coated fingers teased his hole, the pink skin eager for his digits. He shucked off his jeans and underwear in one swift motion for better access as he slowly eased a slick finger in his entrance, causing a strained moan to escape his lips. 

Leon hiked up the shirt with his other hand, relocating the fingers that once was holding the shirt in place to the wet cavern of his mouth. He imagined that he had the heavy weight of Chris’ length inside his mouth, the smell and taste of Chris’ sex like a drug to him. Leon melted at the thought of Chris spilling his seed inside him, whether that’d be down his throat or in his guts. Adding more fingers into his yearning hole, he thrust into his caverns in tandem, fingers curling to graze at his prostate. Leon threw his head back in bliss, his back arching as he continued to fuck himself with his digits. 

He opted to switch positions as his cock yearned for friction. With Chris’ shirt discarded on the floor, Leon’s face was now smothered in Chris’ pillow, fully absorbed in the heady scent of the brunette’s musk and shampoo. His ass was up, fingers still sheathed in his plush walls as he thrust against the bed, his cock leaving trails of pre-cum on the blanket. He imagined Chris fucking him like that—face down, ass up, plowing him into the mattress.

He continued at an unrelenting pace, with fingers abusing his throat and prostate. His oversensitive dick yearned for release as he thrust against the sheets with a newfound urgency. 

He was so close to his limit, not even the subtle shift in the air and the sound of something dropping behind him could halt his ministrations. 

Leon climaxed onto the white sheets, his back curving in bliss as a guttural groan escaped his lips. Even through his half-lidded, blissed out eyes, he was able to make out a large, dark haired figure through the curtain of dirty blonde hair.


End file.
